


you're like a ghost and you cannot go

by camphollstein



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Asami-centric, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camphollstein/pseuds/camphollstein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place between books 3 and 4.<br/>Suffocating in her own silence, Asami makes an impromptu visit to Air Temple Island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're like a ghost and you cannot go

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this sucks- haven't written fanfiction in years.  
> title from Lumehelves by Oskar Schuster and Possimiste.

The sound of her pen hitting the desk rings loudly in the hollow factory. Asami watches as it rolls down to the bottom, and hears the dull sound of metal against the stone floor. If she doesn't catch it, the pen might roll all the way to the corridor, to be kicked by some worker returning from the bathroom, tomorrow. She thinks of picking it up, but moving seems like too much work.

She's chugged down the last of her coffee hours ago. The papers in her desk are all filled out, stacked primly on the paper rack; she's finished a whole week's worth of forms in one night.

As glad as she should be to be free, Asami finds the idea of staying here much more appealing than being at home. But there's an image to be maintained- she'd hate for people to know how hard she's been working, how hard she's been throwing herself at projects, in her fiery quest for a semblance of purpose.

Team Avatar has disbanded. There are no more enemies to be fought; no battles to be won. Bolin is somewhere in the Earth Kingdom; Korra at the South Pole. Only Mako and Asami are still here, stuck- though he seems just as distant, following the police rulebook just as much as he once followed pro-bending rules. He doesn't come around too often, and when he does, it's strange to have the ghost of their awful attempt at a relationship. Not that either of them still has any interest in it - she knows that much - but Mako has a tendency to overthink things that are very simple.

Besides, Asami hasn't had much time to think about the past- lately all she does is work and worry about Korra.

Her lack of replies is not unexpected. Asami herself wouldn't answer anyone in her position. She can only hope that her letters give her a bit of solace from whatever she's going through. When she was still at Air Temple Island, the Avatar had pushed herself mercilessly- Katara would make sure she wouldn't hurt herself.

As Asami watches the Republic City horizon turn blacker and blacker, she wishes she were there. Wishes she could hold Korra's hand during lunch, could soothe her when pain surged, could see as Korra's eyelids fluttered just before she fell to sleep. They were hurtful moments- moments when Korra just about seemed like herself again, until one of the kids whizzed by in an air scooter, and her face succumbed to darkness one more.

There were days when it took her over completely. Days where Korra wouldn't speak or eat- she laid in her bed, looking at the ceiling, scratching at her wrists until they turned red. In those days she screamed while she slept- begged for Zaheer to just let Raava survive. It was terrifying that she took the role of Avatar more seriously than she did Korra- she'd lay down her life, time and again, for a new Avatar to be born anew. And there'd been a time in their first year where Asami saw that thought briefly- when Korra had lost her bending.

But, as selfish as it is, Asami would gladly see away Raava for Korra. No other Avatar, no matter how smart, how talented, how kind, could compare to hers. No one would have her eyes, her smile, her conviction. Korra was her own miracle, extraordinary in her own right.

From her office, she sees as the lights on Air Temple Island turn on. Dawn will rise soon; the acolytes are now probably starting their chores, and Pema making tea. She wonders if she'd mind Asami coming by.

On that thought, Asami gets up and gathers her things, turning off the lamp. Oppressive silence chokes her as she leaves the factory; she can only breathe out when the sirens and the hum of streetlights reaches her ears. She takes the ferry; the water ripples under it, tiny waves that'll crash against nothing, only dissipate when they cease to pass. Even Asami has to admit mankind cannot win against it- water won't bow to a non-bender, as much as it won't to a machine. Waterbenders flow like liquid; she supposes that's why water follows.

When she was a child, Asami entertained the idea of being a bender. This was before her mother, before the Equalists; when Asami could still pretend to punch fire at random objects. She never thought about airbending- her schoolteachers had said much of their spiritual connection, their nomadic life, that made no sense to a child. Not did she want to be a waterbender- she looked awful in blue. Before that fateful night, Asami wanted to yield fire. She wanted to hold the stuff that made life in her hands.

But then, time passed, and she could barely look at fire without seeing her mother's face.

A tired, but happy acolyte greets her at docking. He offers to accompany her, but he's probably got a dozen things to do today, so she thanks him but drives herself.

She parks just as the pinpricks of sunlight light the sky, in a show of colors. She sees Pema bow down to pick up Rohan, who yawns and fusses about on his mother's arms. Pema spots her shortly after, waving her in.

"How nice it is to see you, Asami," she says warmly, as Rohan attempts to fly from her arms into Asami's. "Would you like to eat breakfast with us?"

"If it wouldn't be a bother, Pema."

"Please come in," she says. Giving up, she settles Rohan on the floor again. He pulls at Asami's pants, chubby little hands trying to climb. "Don't mind him."

Asami surprises herself by picking him up, smiling at the little gargle of joy Rohan lets out. When she sits down at the kitchen, he starts playing with the ends of her hair.

"Oh, hello Asami."

Tenzin seems glad to see her; maybe she's not the only one who misses Team Avatar. "Hello, Tenzin. How are the airbending suits?"

He grimaces a little. "Haven't managed to get Meelo out of his."

"Then well, I assume?" she chuckles.

Every meal at the Air Temple is endlessly entertaining. Meelo shoots buns out with blasts of air, their custard filling falling on Jinora's hair, who is too busy arguing with Ikki to notice as it slides down her face. Only Asami and Tenzin eat in silence, but even then Asami has to giggle at some points. She's almost forgotten how it is to laugh; Bolin used to be the one cracking jokes at her and Mako, while Korra offered her own snarky commentary every now and then.

She supposes it doesn't matter now. Everyone is off doing their own thing; only Asami is stuck in the same place. Maybe she should start striding about too.

After eating, she helps Pema clean up. The noise of the kids scurrying about outside, and Tenzin's outbursts, kept her mind from drifting into more serious topics. Instead, she spoke to Pema about nothing, drifting from topic to topic with ease. Then she sits out on the steps, watching everyone move about.

Jinora's hair is finally growing back; there's just enough for the breeze to pick up. She's grown a lot since Asami first met her- she's more centred and reflective. She can't say the same for the other two- Ikki has gotten a few inches taller, and Meelo has grown some hair. It's more fun than she'd imagine, watching them grow, even if from afar.

Tenzin sits down beside her. "Is everything alright, Asami?"

Instead of shrugging it off, Asami decides to be honest. "I'm having trouble with getting used to peace."

"Peace has been rare, these last years," he ponders. "I can understand that."

"I miss the team, too."

He hums. Asami pulls her knees to her chest at his pause.

"We all have our own paths to take," Tenzin finally says. "Sometimes they take us far from the ones we love. But, if you work hard enough, no matter the distance, they'll always be with you."

Now she sees why Korra liked him so much.

Asami gives Tenzin a smile. "Is it alright if I come by here more often, Tenzin?"

His eyes soften. Maybe he knows how the mansion is cold and empty, her steps echoing through the walls, her father's old room locked. She looks sullen and tired, too- over the last year, Asami lost a lot of weight. Her cheeks are sunken and there are bags under her eyes, ones she can't keep hiding with makeup for much longer.

A part of her takes shame in showing weakness, in showing want. To want to be near the kids, be near a family- she hasn't had one these years. Sometimes it's nice to go somewhere where people don't want anything from you but company. There's something to be said of her solace being the outcasts of the bending world, the last of their kind.

"We like having you here, Asami."

Ikki sits down next to her, with her sharp curiosity and excitement. "How did you come up with the suits? How many have you made? Will Uncle Bumi get one too? Can I get one in pink?"

Soon enough, they're all blabbering around her, their father pinching the bridge of his nose, waiting for a fight to break out. But Asami answers them all kindly. At one point, Meelo embarks onto a dramatic retelling of how he found a tiny baby bison stuck on a tree.

She wants to let this be a common occurence. Wants to be around the Temple, helping Pema pick up after the kids, taking out tea for the airbenders after their morning meditation. Even then, she wants to sit down with the other airbenders, the ones they found all over kingdoms, and hear what they have to say.

They're all so kind and welcoming towards her. They ask about her life, how she feels about politics and economy. A bender from a small village on the Earth Kingdom tells her about the first time he saw a Satomobile, and how he's amazed that she understands how it works and how to make one.

The whole day, Asami feels at home. Tenzin invites her to meditate, teaches her gently how to sit and empty her mind, talking about Aang's teachings and life. He was such a wise Avatar, she realizes- to see the potential of having Republic City, of having Sokka being one of the chairmen. And he raised such kind people; Kya and Bumi have always been nice to her, and Tenzin seems to enjoy having people to teach, having his door open for anyone who wants guidance.

She briefly entertains the idea of staying here forever- of being a part of their world, a part of something greater. But then she remembers the thrill of making projects, of building a good motor, of handling mechanical problems with ease. Her world is math and logic, all angles and circuits. Air Temple Island is for spiritual and teaching purposes, and though she likes it here, she knows she'll never be one of them.

But it's nice to know she's welcome here. Jinora and Ikki seem to like having an older girl around, one who they can talk to about shamelessly girly things like nail polish and skirts. Meelo likes showing off in front of her- even Kai sits down next to Jinora when they talk of spirits.

She ends up accepting Pema's offer of staying the whole weekend. They lend her some of Pema's old clothes, ones there are worn and soft, that float along her form. It's hard to get used to it, but they smell of home and people. All of Asami's things smell alien, of sterile hangars and engine oil.

After the sun sets on her first day there, Asami sits by a small gazebo on the shorefront. Acolytes bid her goodnight as they pass by, all involved in their own conversations; she smiles at them genuinely. There's a sense of peace around here. Not only because of the airbenders, but also because she's walking along halls Korra had been. When she first came to the temple, Korra walked the paths with light on her eyes, her smile stretching to her ears. Asami can almost hear her laugh, if she concentrates enough.

All the airbenders miss Korra. There is an undertone of wistfulness in Jinora and Tenzin's speech, and she's caught Pema glancing at Korra's old room, as if Asami's presence could magically transport her back. But no one comes, and they have to settle for that. There'll be no sprinting Avatar today, nor tomorrow. Asami wonders if, perhaps, Korra just doesn't want to be around them anymore. Selfish, she knows, but the lack of response sometimes creeps up on her, whispering of inadequacy. Maybe she'll write to Tenzin, one day; maybe her problems are about the bending aspect, the one thing Asami can't help with.

She misses Aang's statue. When she was younger, the sillouette brought her a sense of respect and duty- that she should carry on a great man's dream of a great city. Only now, Aang's memory is distant; Asami can't think of an Avatar without her mind flashing to Korra.

The crux of it is Korra. Nothing she'll look at won't remind her of the Avatar. Even the nighttime sea has the color of her clothes, the smell of her hair. Sometimes she caught a whiff of it when they walked; during the time she tried to teach Korra how to drive, the wind carried her scent, filling Asami's lungs.

She would give anything to have that again. But nothing she does will bring Korra back to Republic City. She can only wait.

She has made sure no one tells her where Zaheer is, too. Asami can't know whether she would kill him on sight. There's not a fiber in her being that feels anything but hatred for him- hatred for his crimes, for what he's done to all of them. Any time she thinks of him, she sees Korra's limp body on the ground, sees the metal slide out of her, remembers the engulfing terror on the seconds it took for Korra to gasp again.

Asami only rises from her spot when the moon is completely out. Her body sags with exhaustion, her eyelids closing of their own will. She finds her temporary room and lies down on the hard cot; the peaceful atmosphere of Air Temple Island lulls her to a long-awaited deep sleep.


End file.
